


Luck of the Haul

by comfycozysweaters



Series: Space Pirates [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bounty Hunter, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, M/M, Space Pirate, Space Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 12:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15972644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comfycozysweaters/pseuds/comfycozysweaters
Summary: “How about you dock your skinny little fighter and come up for some quality time? Haven’t seen that ass in far too long.” His grin was back, heated with eyes raking over Keith’s vid screen. The bounty hunter rolled his eyes despite the flush on his cheeks.“Sorry, McClain, I don’t do marks.”





	Luck of the Haul

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun little AU I decided to write! 
> 
> Check out the corresponding fanart here: http://brpeerpressureart.tumblr.com/post/178009864323/

Red tinted the control room, steady and violent as an alarm sounded. All staff and crew had been diverted either to confront the intruder or find safety in the bowels of the cargo ship. The only remaining occupant stood, sweating, at the main console. Her eyes never strayed from the screen in front of her, taking in the vast nothingness of space overtaken by several smaller windows showing the interior camera feeds, vitals of those on board left alive, and the SOS that was sent out just minutes before shut down. Aside from the alarm, it had long since gone silent in this quadrant of the ship. No more sounds of fighting, orders being issued, the thud of soldiers and crew running to intercept their uninvited guest. Just an eerie calm juxtaposed with the urgency of the alert system.   
  
Were they clear? Had they won? It had only been one attacker, surely the Galra escort had taken them out by now.   
  
Her hands shook as she scrolled through the cameras. No sign of activity. Nothing out of the ordinary. She let herself breathe.    
  
It was too late when she noticed the odd jump in several feeds that suggested tampering, a loop of uninterrupted recording aside from a slight jitter. Too late to slam the manual lock for the door.   
  
Too damn late to save herself.   
  
There was a deafening crack followed by searing pain in her shoulder that sent her sprawling over the console. Another hit her hip, causing her to recoil and slip to the floor.   
  
Boots walked calmly towards her, steel toed and shining despite their obvious used appearance. A rifle hung casually from a gloved hand, as if there were no threats, as if she couldn’t still grab the knife in her belt and stab the man with all of her dwindling strength. She wheezed and moved to do just that, but everything was too late. She was just... too late.   
  
Her hand was crushed beneath a booted foot, a scream ripped from her throat as the stranger tsked and knelt before her.   
  
“Now now that’s not necessary.” Blue eyes filled with a cold mirth locked with her yellow. Despite the grin on his face he seemed disappointed, as if he expected better from her. She bared her teeth at the audacity. “Aw don’t be like that! It’s not my fault you’re in this situation. I told your commander to forfeit your ship’s haul peacefully and he shot at me! Such a rude response. Didn’t even think to just say no.”   
  
He laughs a bit at that, humorless and dry. “Not that saying No was an option either but it’s the thought that counts.” Here finally released her hand and she yanked to her chest, cradling it and trying to ignore the tremble that had taken over her body.   
  
“Go to hell, Primitive,” she choked out. His grin grew sharp and eyes half lidded. He was slow and almost tender in using his free hand to reach down and lift her chin.   
  
“You Galra, always so eager to declare yourself superior to those that have bested you.” That disappointment bled from his tone, thick and oh so fake. “A shame such a pretty thing like you has to die just because your boss man was a prideful idiot. If this had been any other meeting, we could have had a completely different conversation.”   
  
“FUCK you.” She spat. His face twisted in shock momentarily as he let her go to wipe the glob of saliva from his cheek. Then he turned stormy. Unreadable.   
  
He stood without another word and stepped over her to shut off the distress call. This was her chance.    
  
She didn’t care that her shoulder, hand, and hip were mangled and bloody, she shot up, grabbed a knife from his own boot and jammed it into the back of his knee. With a curse he fell.   
  
She barely managed a satisfied smirk before he shot her point blank in the head.   
  
The pirate sat there beside the Galra woman’s corpse digging out his knife and thanking the stars that she’d stabbed into his prosthetic leg. That she managed at all was guaranteed to provide the boys back at the station endless amusement. Lance had been so damn tired by the time he’d made it to the bridge he hadn’t even thought to check that he’d actually crippled the woman before turning his back on her.   
  
“You’re getting rusty, McClain...” He rubbed the sweat from his forehead and set his rifling down, taking a moment to remove the knife and pocket it again. If he weren’t alone on this mission he’d worry about time. However with no one to lecture him on carelessness and punctuality he was fine with taking a breather.   
  
Still it wasn’t safe to stay too long so once he’d caught his breath and made sure the SOS was shut down and hallways were clear, he stood and made his way to a room near by where the valuables would be kept. As a cargo ship, there was a myriad of items being transported or protected, but most of it unusable to someone like Lance. The stuff that really brought in the bacon was usually kept in a vault close to command. Easy access, easy to keep an eye on, and safe from your run of the mill thieves and pirates that would go after the cargo with no thought to what else the ship might be carrying.   
  
His lock picking kit wasnt the most advanced but it got the job done and soon enough he was making his way off of the Galra cargo ship and back to his junker. It wasn’t pretty but it flew like a new model and best of all had an unregulated slip speed component that enabled him to flee a scene without being tracked. A nice little thank you from a mechanic he’d ran a job for a while back. As he jumped into slip speed, he moved from the cockpit to the fold out cot set into the wall of the small living area partitioned off only by a cropped wall that still allowed him easy access and sight to the cockpit and beyond. His long jacket and boots were thrown onto the partition and replaced by his house shoes, comfortable loafers that made his aching feet sing in relief, and a loose cardigan that was soft and warm and everything his tired muscles enjoyed after a hit. His pants joined his jacket and gave him clear access to check the damage to his knee.   
  
“Ah man, Pidge is going to kill me when she sees this.” The knife had sliced right through the circuitry and carbon fiber fabric that protected it, leaving a jumbled mess that had his leg numb and twitching at every movement. It wasn’t the worst that could have happened but considering he’d just gotten an upgrade literally last week, he was in for a painful and exhausting verbal lashing from one Pidge Holt, youngest scientist and engineer to enter the black market because, quote, “-(she) was bored.”   
  
For now though, Lance would live with the limp and thank the stars for his good fortune and good hunting. Speaking of which...   
  
He grinned, a genuine excited expression splitting his face, and hobbled to the other side of the quarters where his take sat still on the hover gurney in two chests of considerable size. He wasted no more time in opening one and sifting through it. Later he’d grab his tablet and actually take inventory, but for now he just wanted to bask in a job well done. And damn was a it a good one.   
  
Armor and weapons clearly meant for the higher ups on the crew and oh so hard to get your hands on as an outsider, raw concentrated Quintessence, documents and passports, ledgers, schedules, currency, and even some fine garments likely meant to be political gifts to allies or bribes to officials. All incredibly valuable to the right people.    
  
The armor, clothing, and weapons would do well with the usual markets on outposts or trades. The Quintessence was actually a shock to Lance and he decided to set the few tubes aside to deal with later. Perhaps he could sell it back to the Galra for a pretty penny or give some to Pidge to see what she could come up with. He’d keep a vial himself, add just a drop to his skin care products to make them last until he could order more. It was a frivolous use for such a coveted power source but hey, before it became scarce due to Galran over-mining, it had been a main ingredient in quite of a few products.    
  
All that was left was the documents. He had a few contacts that would pay a hefty sum for this information. Even more than that, they’d likely hire him to follow up, guaranteeing continued work for at least a while. What he couldn’t sell he’d barter for safe passage through areas controlled by the Galaxy Garrison. Possibly even a vacation. Anything Galra and the Garrison was ready to throw money down.   
  
Ah good ol’ hostilities. Keeping people like Lance employed just to spite one side or the other.    
  
He shut the chest with a satisfied smile and moved to set a course for home base, a small out post on the moon of a gas giant, teaming with undesirables and the Garrison’s attempt at law and order. Really it was more like controlled chaos. Those stationed on AH-26 merely kept up appearances while allowing corruption and the morally ambiguous to reign supreme. So long as civilians and families were left alone, the inhabitants were welcome to engage in whatever illicit activities they wished to.    
  
It was perfect for someone like Lance who dealt with both sides of the law. A melting pot of goody goodies and the worst of the worst all clamoring to buy what he was selling and he never had to travel far. So convenient.   
  
Course plotted and haul checked, Lance moved to the bathroom to clean and freshen up. He had at least a couple of days before he’d be home and in that time he’d be monitoring to make sure no retaliation for his latest heist appeared while also watching his ass and accounting for other pirates, bounty hunters, or even Garrison ships trying to take him out. Usually it wasn’t a problem, but he was traveling through a few claimed territories and it always paid to be cautious.    
  
Now would be the only time between here and AH-26 he’d have to indulge. A nice soak with a lavender bathbomb, charcoal mask followed by a cucumber sheet, luxurious sugar scrubs, and even a manicure to make him feel rested, clean, and taken care of.   
  
Just because he was a Space Pirate didn’t mean he couldn’t pamper himself.    
  
—   
  
A proximity warning woke Lance from his sleep with a start. His AI drone detached itself from its docking station in the cockpit to hover over and circle his bed, blue light pulsating with the automated voice. “Hailing frequency, requested. Unidentified Ship in range. Hailing frequency requested.” It repeated itself until Lance swatted at the drone, dragging himself out of bed and shoving his long jacket on over his pajamas so the hailing ship would be none the wiser to his vulnerable state.   
  
“I hear you, I hear you! Jeeze remind me to ask Pidge to install a mute button.” The drone’s speaker blew a raspberry and Lance huffed, annoyed, but the alarm shut off and he opened the frequency as he jammed a hat over his unruly bed head. Anything to look more awake and menacing than he felt.    
  
A screen appeared and he could almost groan at his luck of who happened to be on the other side. He shucked his hat and collapsed into the pilot’s seat throwing a leg over the arm. “Red. To what do I owe this favor?”   
  
The man in question, Red, seemed annoyed at the dismissal and casual tone. Lance didn’t know why. He did this every time they talked, feeling secure enough to let loose and drop all pretenses while the other seemed stubbornly stuck in professional correspondence mode.

  
“Blue. You decimated another Galra cargo ship. That’s the third one this month. Even if you hadn’t dispatched over half the crew, the Empire will be looking for revenge. It’s a matter of honor for them at this point.” His voice never wavered. No anger permeated his voice, just an even telling of the facts.    
  
Lance grinned. “Aw Keith are you worried about little ol’ me? That’s so sweet.” He winked and finally Red’s composure cracked just enough to let his brow furrow and cheeks tinge. Lance wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment but he was willing to hope the second. He propped his chin on a fist and waved the concern away. 

 

“The Empire has more pressing matters to attend to than tracking down a Pirate, no matter how dashing and brilliant.” Keith snorted derisively at that. “They’re too caught up in their feud with the Garrison and Altea for revenge. I doubt they even miss the ships I’ve hit. They were all cargo ships headed to scrap heaps to trade on the black market anyways. I’m just cutting out the middle man by liberating their most precious cargo.”   
  
Red was not amused. He sighed and ran a hand through his unruly mop, looking to the world like a man pained from his mere existence. “They’ll be cutting your throat sooner or later if you don’t lay low..” He seems to consider something for a tick, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why don’t you return to the castle. You can deal your goods through a safer network and keep hidden from the Galra for a time.”   
  
Lance’s smile dropped and he looked to the side, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable. He could feel the sweat from his sleep dry on his skin and longed for a refreshing shower. “You know that’s not an option for me, Kogane.” Red frowned and looked away as well, obviously regretting his offer. Lance spoke before he could retaliate.    
  
“How about you dock your skinny little fighter and come up for some quality time? Haven’t seen that ass in far too long.” His grin was back, heated with eyes raking over Keith’s vid screen. The bounty hunter rolled his eyes despite the flush on his cheeks.    
  
“Sorry, McClain, I don’t do marks.” That was bullshit and they both knew it. But clearly Keith was more concerned with Lance’s impending Galra problem than the month or so since they’d last shared a bed. Granted it’d been with Lance hand cuffed for not so sexy reasons with a price on his head and Keith’s wallet getting padded by a Garrison officer but it had been fun in a bantering seducing escaping way. Keith had been so mad however he really only had himself to blame.    
  
He still got the bounty after all. For that contract.   
  
Guess there was a new one out. Damn.   
  
“You sure about that, Kogane?” He undid his jacket revealing his loose shirt and pajama pants and slid an enticing hand. down his chest to rest lightly against his stomach, fingers splayed. Red raised a brow but his eyes followed the hand. “Because I’ve got an itch that could sure use some scratching.” His hand slipped down to lewdly grab his crotch.

  
Red sneered. “Good thing you have both of your hands then.” Rude. “If you’re set on continuing business as normal, at least check in with me periodically. It’d be a shame to lose your bounty to the Galra.”    
  
“You know if you’re really hard up on money, you can always join me for a job or two.” It was a genuine offer, proposed with the sort of forced indifference that bellied insecurity and the hope that he’d say yes. Occasionally they do team up, when one or the other have a job that just can’t be done alone. But it’s rare and always followed with the reminder that they’re not in the same line of work no matter how closely they overlap.    
  
Keith’s eyes soften and a small smile plays on his lips. “Don’t get captured, Blue. I’ll see you on the other side.”   
  
Lance sighs and waves as the transmission ends.    
  
—   
  
Moving the chests to the small cargo hold of Lance’s ship doesn’t take long. He secures them next to his last two hauls and sets about checking each one against his inventory multiple times. Inventory isn’t just about numbers and products, it’s also where he starts making plans on who to contact about what. It’s almost always the same people, but Keith was right in pointing out how risky such a large haul was. Not many of his usual contacts would be willing to risk themselves just because Lance had a winning streak so he was forced to think outside of the box and call up some less than savory individuals. People he only dealt with in times like these.   
  
The biggest obstacle was the Castle and its Princess, his prime buyers of Galra intel and Quintessence. Usually he could sell the products to an ambassador like Hunk or even Pidge but with the heists happening so close to each other, he couldn’t risk the spread of his haul. One bad rumor and his friends were toast.   
  
But on the other hand he wouldn’t have to deal with the Princess himself.   
  
Returning to the main deck gave him some time to contemplate how to go about this interaction. He threw on his cardigan and loafers without a second thought, unconcerned about his appearance when it came to the Princess. 

  
Her visage is just beautiful and deadly sharp as ever and he feels his cheeks heat in both attraction and shame as she stares coldly down at him. He plastered a smile on his face. 

  
“Hey Princess! You’re looking magnificent today. New hair style? Moisturizer?” His grin was steady but on the inside his heart was racing.   
  
“What do you want, Lance.” Straight to the point as always, malice edging her voice.

  
“Ah you see I procured some items of interest that I think would be useful for the Castle.” Despite his obvious nervousness and down right pathetic level of speech at the moment, Allura’s eyes sparked in interest. She knew, even though she’d never admit it, that Lance always made a trade worth while. 

  
Once upon a time they’d been close. Close enough that Lance freely flirted with the Princess of Altea without fear of repercussions and she felt comfortable expressing care and concern for his well being and friendship. They had never made it to official couple status but that had been fine. Still, seeing him flirt with every being they came across had worn on her patience. As the Altean Princess, she had expected much more from the Garrison Ambassador and did not understand what she claimed as frivolous infidelity, despite his being perpetually single. While that was a wedge in their friendship it wasn’t enough to earn her disdain.    
  
Nah, going AWOL and turning up as a ruthless Pirate a year later had crushed her heart and any kindness she might have towards him. For all her talk of peace she never approved of the methods in which he brought it to those he helped. Even now he could see her lips pinched and angry. 

  
“I’ll patch you through to Coran. Good day, Lance.” Efficient and polite.    
  
At least Coran still liked him he thought as a jaunty voice called its hello.   
  
—   
  
Day two and Lance was hit by a small Galra recon shuttle. Knocked him right out of slipstream sending him rolling in space and nearly crashing into an asteroid belt. He barely managed to grab the controls and yank into a steep incline to avoid becoming space paste. Once level he shucked off his cardigan and replaced it with his jacket, grabbing his hat and boots as he hastily settled in to the pilot seat.    
  
“Shit fuck how did they find me?” He groaned as he grabbed the controls and turned himself just in time to dodge a blast that splintered the asteroid behind him. “STARS!”    
  
The AI barely let out a whimper before Lance slammed the coms on and answered the hail. A screen popped up with two burly looking Galra standing at attention. One was clearly the commander and the second a grunt, possibly a right hand, both looking almost bored.   
  
He had half a mind to be offended.

  
“Unidentified ship, you are in direct violation of the Galra Empire and will be boarded. Surrender yourself and we will make your death quick.”   
  
Lance didn’t like the sound of that. “Hey now you gotta buy me dinner first if you want to take me on a ride.” He’s joking but another shot sends his face into the console effectively breaking his nose.   
“Ow! Quiznack why’d do you go and do that?!” Blood pours down his face and he struggles to pop it back into place.   
  
“That will be your only warning. Surrender now or be boarded forcefully.”   
  
He finally manages to pop his nose back and grabs a tissue or two to stuff up his nostrils and stem the bleeding. The image in his mind is quite ridiculous, pirate with a tissue walrus cursing out two very serious and stoic Galran soldiers. “Fine fine, board me. Jeeze. You know my face is my best feature so I’d be praying to whatever god you worship that it’s not messed up now. I’ll be really mad if it is.” Even as he wheezes he keeps his tone light and easy. Let them come, no one boards his ship without his want and leaves.    
  
It doesn’t take long before his ship is engulfed by the larger Galra cruiser, landing him in the hangar surrounded by a small crew of soldiers. Not exactly great odds. He shoves his mask on before the ramp opens at the back of his ship. It’s plane, with a visor of blue and a respirator built in to be functional and aesthetic. Perfect for keeping his face out of the news and protecting him from gas agents.    
  
Which is honestly just great timing as a smoke grenade rolls into his packed up living area. No doubt they expect him to be just a lucky guy, not a hardened pirate who comes prepared for every eventuality. To be fair, he goes to great lengths to avoid having any kind of reputation outside of his contacts so it’s not like they’d know. Reputations got people targeted, killed. Hell his bounty was even a fluke accident.   
  
Which meant he had the pleasure of seeing the first two Galras’ shock as he came at them while the smoke was still in the air, taking one out then the other with quiet proficiency. He let the smoke clear, hiding and listening behind the partition as another Galra soldier boarded, calling out for his downed colleagues. He waited until he heard a quiet, “What...” and shift of clothing to pop up with a pistol in hand shoot the third right between his eyes. He fell with a loud thud and Lance was back to hiding.   
  
Picking them off one by one would only work for so long, but this at least gave him a starting point. A chance to sync his wrist band to the ship and scan the surrounding hanger. The layout was pretty basic with seven more guards and at least ten sentries huddled around his ship. There was no way he could take that many out on his own if they all came at him and they would catch on to his current M.O. soon. Three more came up the ramp and this time they were ready. Another smoke bomb but now they had shields.   
  
He expected that but what he didn’t expect was the soldiers using the shields as a distraction as their third wound up for a devastating gut punch with a metal arm. Lance landed in a heap, coughing and gasping and trying not to vomit.    
  
Stars all mighty.   
  
That fucking hurt.   
  
He laughed, a pained wheezing noise, blood coloring his mouth. “Fuck man, I just got this place detailed.”    
  
The Galra were not amused. One, the one with the cybernetic enhancement, grabbed him and lifted him by his hair, dragging a pained grunt from the human. “Where are the goods you stole from the Galra Empire.” It wasn’t a question so much as an order.   
  
“You... you gotta be more specific, buddy.” He laughs again, pain at ever chortle. “Got a lot of stolen shit.”   
  
A backhand and then he was dropped. He groans. The soldier goes for another strike but is held back by one of the others in the ship. “Stand down, soldier. The Commander will interrogate him.” The same soldier kneels beside Lance and grabs his chin, forcing him to look up with a crushing hold frighteningly similar to what Lance had done days prior. “You are nothing but dishonorable scum. Your ship is forfeit and so is your life. We’ll find our property if we need to tear this vessel apart and then we shall do the same to you.”   
  
Lance grins. “Promise?”   
  
A quick punch to the head and his vision swam. He felt himself get hauled to his feet, one soldier on either arm, and would have felt fear if he didn’t see his AI quietly blinking in his peripheral. “You’re going to have to be quick if you want to keep me then.”   
  
The soldier sneered. “Ignore him. He speaks nonsense-“   
  
The lights blared on in the shuttle, blinding in their intensity, giving Lance the opportunity to yank himself free and grab one soldier, twisting behind him and shoving him into the other. He laughed as they both went down, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his visor adjusted to the new light. The third was closer to the exit so Lance was careful to lure him back inside. So long as they remained in his ship, he wouldn’t lose.    
  
He took him down and wrestled for   
the gun, finally prying it away and shooting all three in the head before they could recover. More would come and he didn’t have it in him to fight through those numbers for the fourth time this month. Hell it was luck that got him two under staffed ships and one with faulty defenses. This was a healthy and whole ship specifically sent out to capture and kill him so he doubted it’d be as easy as his previous hits.   
  
All he needed to do was get out and do some damage on the way. He vaulted into his chair, sealing his mask and undersuit as he heard more soldiers coming up the ramp. He fired up the thrusters, prepped the lasers—they were getting close, he felt claws tear at his shoulder—and leaned as heavily as he could onto the steering, sending the ship vertical as lasers blasted a hole into the roof. There was scratching on metal as soldiers were upended by the sudden angle and desperately tried to hold on to the ship. Claws dug into his shoulder and neck until he screamed. Still climbing vertical. Anyone without purchase was lost to space as the cabin depressurized.    
  
He still had a passenger digging into him, growling in his ear, making him dizzy with pain, lack of air, and anger. He entered slipstream. Felt his entire body being squeezed through a tube with the hull still open. Finally managed to free a pistol and shoot over his shoulder right into the Galra’s face, once, twice, three times, until the limp body let go and he could smack the ramp closed.   
  
He exited slipstream a moment later. No idea where he ended up.   
  
Stars. His head hurt. His bloody hands slipped from the controls, pistol dropping to the floor. His vision grew fuzzy, colors blinding him in a haze.    
  
He needed a healing pod.   
  
He needed to sleep.   
  
He drifted.    
  
—   
  
“Blue. Come in Blue.”    
  
There was a thrum of machinery cutting the air. Quiet and steady. No lights except for the glowing keys and screens of the cockpit.    
  
“Blue, do you read me. Blue?”   
  
Breathing hurt. Liquid in his lungs gargled   
painfully. His eyes opened slowly, blinking the red out of his vision.    
  
“Lance? Lance! Lance come in, Lance!”   
  
His hands were numb, but waking with a pins and needles restlessness that left him clenching and unclenching his fists.    
  
“Lance I swear to fuck, if you’re dead, I am going to kill you.”   
  
Lance manages a pitiful laugh that devolves into a wet cough. “Right here, Red. Not dead yet.”   
  
He could barely make out the bounty hunter on the screen as he sat up. “Might need... a hospital though. But I’m alive.”   
  
Red was probably scowling, worry clear in his stupidly expressive face. Well... expressive to those who knew him. Which Lance did, better than most. He couldn’t tell though. His vision was already swimming again. “I’m letting you board, Red. Hands off... the merch.”   
  
His AI chirped positively and the loud sound of machinery fitting against machinery filled his ears. The ramp descended and suddenly he had gloved hands grabbing him and forcing him to ground to lay out. Red was quiet as he inspected Lance’s injuries. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be out of commission for awhile.    
  
“How’d you find me?” It was quiet in the still air. A drastic change from his last coherent memory.    
  
“Your AI sent me an SOS. Guess I’m still your emergency contact.”   
  
Lance smiled. “Gotta update that, huh.”   
  
Red smiled back, just for a second. “I don’t see a reason to. Worked, didn’t it?”   
  
“I guess.”   
  
—   
  
His contacts weren’t too happy that they had to deal with Keith Kogane instead of Lance McClain for his most recent haul, but all it took was one look at the wicked fresh welts covering Lance’s face and the still occasionally bloody smile to have them reluctantly agreeing it best. Nothing more suspicious than dealing with someone as fucked up as Lance after all.   
  
Of course Kogane expected a cut and that’s what they were arguing about when Lance lost his patience and decided to sit on Keith’s face. Naked. It stopped the argument for a time at least.   
  
And damn was that man good at using his tongue. Win win in Lance’s opinion.    
  
Laying together in a hotel they’d booked for their stay on AH-26, Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and threaded their fingers together. It wasn’t often they got quiet time like this together. Usually they were reduced to quickies on one or the other’s ship, maybe a night or two on the far reaches of the galaxy if their schedules synched up. But so far it’d been a week and neither were in a hurry to be the first to end it, even if it was inevitable.    
  
“We should team up again.” Lance’s voice cut through the silence. He didn’t bother looking up from their entwined hands, just kept staring as his thumb rubbed circles.   
  
Keith sighed. They’d had this conversation many times before and always they concede that it wasnt possible with their work. Still, Lance missed the days when Keith and he were a team, first on the Castle with the Garrison, then as pirates in a Galra controlled sector.    
  
They’d both trained with the Garrison and were stationed at the prestigious Castle, a hub of intergalactic cultures and trade, as cadets. At one point in their military career, Lance had declared them rivals. Keith had barely known who he was until they’d ran into each other a year after Keith was dishonorably discharged and Lance had maybe accidentally stowed away on his ship while taking a nap. It was only for a week but in that week Lance had discovered far more than he could excuse about the Garrison and their “war”   
while getting a taste of life outside of the strict military training he’d been in since he was just another runt from the colonies.    
  
It was a shock to everyone when he went AWOL. Even bigger shock when he resurfaced with Keith, cutting down whoever stood in their way as they struggled to make a name for themselves and fight against the injustice they saw being done not just by the Galra but by the Garrison as well. They were branded Pirates, murderers. Banned from Garrison space with a price on their heads. The only reason they had split is that Keith took a deal, one Lance couldn’t blame him for.    
  
No more piracy and they could live as Bounty Hunters on official salary with their contracts taking priority over others. Keith jumped at it, thinking Lance would as well. But Lance couldn’t. He liked being a sort of Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich, giving to the poor. And he did give back where ever he could. Most of his earnings went to his family back on the colonies. Working for the Garrison... he couldn’t do it again. Not unless it was on his terms.   
  
So they split up.   
  
The infamous duo became two infamous solos.    
  
Keith’s eyes closed and he inhaled carefully. Slowly exhaled. His eyes opened and Lance was forced to look at him. “My bounty was removed, Lance. I can’t go back to having one again. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Never knowing who to trust.”   
  
Lance snorted. “Trust no one, you taught me that.”   
  
“Yeah. And yet here we are.” He didn’t make a move to ruin the moment with work but the threat was there. He could if he chose to. Lance knew the only reason he was still free was Keith. Claiming him as his mark meant he was free to pursue Lance without interference from other sanctioned hunters. He was all Keith’s.   
  
Lance smirked, but it was soft. Eyes half lidded. “Here we are.” He trailed his free hand over Keith’s chest, watching the skin jump under his touch.   
  
Silence reigned again and they both went back to leisurely exploring each other through innocent touching.    
  
—   
  
The Blue Lion sat in port, undisturbed except for Pidge and Hunk’s repairs and additions. The scientist and engineer, though at this point they could be called the Castle’s emissaries, mechanics of the Gods, in charge of out reach at AH-26. It was a busy port and enough information came through to rival the Castle if not   
for the unsavory businesses that made up its economy. They had been trained by the Garrison and stationed with the Castle and now they made their own earning on the side with what is technically Pidge’s family’s business that she just happened to run a branch of.    
  
Between coming up with tech and programs for the Garrison and doing outreach for the Castle, the two of them spent their days sprucing up ships and selling modifications under the table. It was a lucrative business, especially with friends like Lance McClain and Keith Kogane.   
  
If there were two people who managed to destroy their ships as often and spectacularly as the two pirates, Pidge never wanted to meet them.   
  
As it was the two were great for business. She could always count on one or the other needing repairs and thereby giving her money. They basically funded her entire operation.   
  
And now they were getting a modification that neither would expect and both would pretend to hate.    
  
Because what they brought her and Hunk was a torn up, gutted, ruined shuttle and a junker waiting to fall apart. She sighed. What the hell else was she to do but combine them? Unless Lance or Keith would be willing or able to buy new ships—they couldn’t, that’s why they came to her—this was the only solution she and Hunk could come up with.   
  
“Hey Pidge, Hunk my man! What you got going-whaaaat the fuck is that.” Speak of the Devil and he may appear. Pidge took Lance’s shocked almost angry but mostly confused face as he stared up at the mashup of his and Keith’s ships. He didn’t seem able to comprehend what he wanted to say so she turned her attention to Keith.   
  
Keith who was staring straight at her accusingly. She grinned and shrugged. “It’s a camel. Both of your ships were too far beyond repair individually but happened to be compatible enough that combining them completely repaired what needed to be repaired. Hunk was the one who figured it out and he worked pretty hard on the design so think before before you react.”   
  
Hunk was in fact wearing a crooked smile, worried and expecting the worst, despite his best friend status with Lance. Lance had seemed to finally figure out what he was seeing and was staring at Hunk with an unreadable expression. “So... I can walk you through the tour and configuration if you’d like?”   
  
A beat of silence before Lance broke away from Keith to throw his arm around Hunk’s shoulders. “Alrighty, Hunk, lead the way! Quick before Mullet has a melt down and tries to physically tear the ships apart to avoid a committed relationship.”   
  
Ouch.   
  
Even Pidge cringed at that. “Burn.” She elbowed Keith who did not find it nearly as funny.   
  
“Explain.”    
  
She sighed and wished she’d joined Hunk when she had the chance.   
  
—   
  
“Ok but how great is it that we can do this literally anywhere any time now.” Lance rolled his hips down and tightened his arms around Keith’s shoulders. Keith for his part was trying very hard to focus on the schematics lighting up the screen. It was annoying how proficient he was at that with Lance all but naked in his lap, grinding and moaning like a porn star in an attempt to get his boyfriend’s attention.    
  
“It’d be great if you could calm your ass down until after we’ve looked at schematics of our next target and made a plan.” His voice was strained, not angry, but clearly frustrated. That just enticed Lance more.    
  
“Ok you do that and I’ll do this.” He grabbed Keith through his pants and gave a good rub as he slid out of his lap and onto the floor, cheek resting on a powerful thigh. It didn’t take much more, just a sloppy blowjob and some leering looks, to finally break Keith away.   
  
Normally he’d be doing all the boring stuff alone. Now however, stuck with his bounty hunter boyfriend he never had to again.    
  
It was so much more fun this way.


End file.
